


Welcome to Gerudo Fanfiction Club!

by Gerudo_Fanfiction_Club



Series: Gerudo Fanfiction Club [1]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Humor, I'm Zelda in this situation, M/M, POV Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Probably ooc, Sort Of, Stream of Consciousness, Zelda just wants to read smut about Link all day but doesn't know it yet, Zelda just wants two minutes without her mind making a terrible and terribly dirty joke, bless her already goddess-blessed filthy soul, my first fanfic ever yaay, we're all probably Zelda in this situation, zelda gets socially harassed but tries to keep her chill, zelda shouldn't think so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-07 00:16:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14068734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gerudo_Fanfiction_Club/pseuds/Gerudo_Fanfiction_Club
Summary: She considered the word for a moment, fan-fiction, trying to get a mental image. Her mind conjured a gaggle of gangly Gerudos brandishing elaborate fans made from fine textiles, hand-painted paper and artfully crafted wood, as they lounged in the shadow of palm trees, fanning themselves and each other in an exaggerated and sensual manner whilst giggling in low, suggestive voices, making their tanned, chiselled stomachs flex and glisten in the purpling afternoon sun.But nope, that’s just a regular Sunday at the oasis, like any other, she remembered with a wistful sigh.Zelda's night starts like any other, with social flailing, cranky Gerudos and crippling embarrassment, but ends with the discovery of Gerudo Town's worst kept secret, except maybe that Link is actually a man. She is thrust into a world of disgusting wonders that she, to her horror, doesn't find all that disgusting. The question: what in Hylia's name is a fan-fiction? The answer is not what she thinks.





	Welcome to Gerudo Fanfiction Club!

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to gerudo fanfiction club! grab book, enjoy the lounge, and bring any questions to our smut-guru, Greta. No pearl-fiddling in the back booths, please.
> 
> This will probably be a series of loosely connected fics revolving around the members and writers of GFC. It's the first fic i've ever published so if i've made a mess of the tags, formating, or anyting else, please tell me! I have no idea what i'm doing. Seriously. English is not my first language so please set me straight if I'm having a problem, maybe by dropping a comment. I'll probably be cryng of joy for every comment i get, even if they're just "nah" or "blargh". Will have water ready for rehydration purposes.
> 
> I would love to hear what you think in the comments! It's the first fic i've ever published anywere so i guess i just lost my ficginity. ...*badum-tss*. More abysmal puns and tragic humor below, and excuse the stink of my vicious brain farts. Enjoy!

”Wait a second! You!! Did you really think we wouldn’t see you standing there, listening in on our conversation?? So rude! This is a private conversation! Go away!”

To say Zelda was flabbergasted would be an understatement. Here she was, drink in hand, trying to socialise with the Gerudo women around her. _Trying_ had been the key word, but now it seemed to be _failing._ Or flailing, maybe.

She was very happy to be somewhat anonymous right now, at least. Her face and hair were covered behind a blue traditional Gerudo veil, with the added bonus of concealing her sudden bout of aggressive blushing. All her regalia was waiting back in chief Riju’s room at the palace, so there was no way she’d be recognised. She hoped.

 Because of this the three girls glaring at her from the sofa in front of her had no idea who she was, she reminded herself, which only made it feel worse and more personal – they were glaring at her, as an individual, not at the queen reagent of Hyrule. They just seemed to think that she was a royal asshole, when she actually had a _royal asshole._ She snorted.

“I didn’t mean to impose. I just wanted to make some friends, but there seems to be none to be found here”, she said coldly, downing the last of her drink. Not drunk enough for this. “I’ll be leaving.”

This did not remind her of being an awkward stuttering teenager in the corners of ballrooms. Not at all. Nope.

“Keep walking, shorty!” The woman on the right growled, taking a swig of her drink. Zelda felt her fist close up but forced herself to relax and walk towards the door. She would _not_ cause a Hylian-Gerudo diplomatic incident by punching someone for being rude. Because that’s not a very royal-like thing to do. At least, not with witnesses. Maybe she should wait outside the door and knock some of those gnarly teeth out with her royal fist, give that rude facehole a good ol’ royal facefisting.

Uh, no. That sounded wrong in her head, somehow.

_“Hey!”_

She almost stumbled in the staircase out from the bar, looking for whomever was calling out. Could her legs not do that, please? She really didn’t want any further reminders of those awkward teen balls. _Teen balls._ She shuddered, not really wanting to be reminded of balls of any kind, shape or variety.

Why was her mind full of balls again? Oh, right. Someone was shout-whispering. She peered around, whilst looking inconspicuously conspicuous, but saw no one.

“ _Hey you! Hylian Lady!”_

She followed the sound of the aggressive whispers and saw a small Gerudo girl leaning out of a doorframe of the next building, staring at her intently. The girl looked around carefully, and then beckoned to Zelda with her little hand. Zelda approached, mindful of her traitorous legs, happy that her veil hid her amused smile.

“I heard you get dragged by Sumati and her goons”, the girl said with a serious sharpness in her eye. “She’s rude as hell to foreigners, so don’t take it personally”.

Zelda barely contained her snort at the girl’s language. She acted as if she was living the street life and handling a black market business, or something.

“Should a good little lady like you really be talking like that?” She asked the Gerudo with what she hoped was a gentle and playful voice, and the girl rolled her eyes at her embarrassing adultness.

“Well, if those old hags – I mean, those women, would stop swearing under my window all the time then I wouldn’t have learned all this shit,” the girl grumbled.

Zelda snorted, loudly.

“Anyways. If you wanna get revenge or something you can listen by my window and get, like, blackmail. Or something.” The girl finished, nodding sagely. Zelda thought for a moment. Why didn’t she just say no, for Hylia’s sake? She was the Queen Reagent of Hyrule, not a gossiping child.

“Alright, lead the way”, she sighed, trying not to sound eager, and sort of failing.

 

 

Crouching awkwardly on the little bed underneath the window, Zelda had learned a few things: There was supposedly a secret club somewhere in Gerudo town, but no one knew where. Which Zelda probably should find slightly strange, since the town was like one tenth the size of her house. Hyrule Castle, that is.

What the rude woman known as Sumati did know, however, was the password: GFC, which apparently stood for Gerudo Fanfiction Club. So she really had all the information except for the address. And since there was maybe ten addresses in town, she wondered how Sumati hadn’t stumbled into the place already.

Well, in the woman’s defence she didn’t seem to be very smart. _That’s more of an offense than a defence, though,_ she thought.

For some reason, Zelda was very intrigued.  Her inquisitive mind was hooked, as it always was when there were questions to be answered, puzzles to be solved and giant evil reincarnations of Ganon to be slammed ass-first through the void with her holy fist.

 _Holes and fists._ She flinched, her own depraved mind bringing on a pain that was almost physical.

Time to backtrack. She considered that word for a moment, _fan-fiction,_ trying to get a mental image. Her mind conjured a gaggle of gangly Gerudos brandishing elaborate fans made from fine textiles, hand-painted paper and artfully crafted wood, as they lounged in the shadow of palm trees, fanning themselves and each other in an exaggerated and sensual manner whilst giggling in low, suggestive voices, making their tanned, chiselled stomachs flex and glisten in the purpling afternoon sun.

But nope, that’s just a regular Sunday at the oasis, like any other, she remembered with a wistful sigh.

And that’s how she found herself stalking through the streets of Gerudo town in the middle of the night, looking for the closed door that might hide a clandestine club room. It turned out to be just as exasperatingly easy as she had thought, since there was only one single doorframe in the entire town that actually held a door.

She took a deep breath, to steady herself, and knocked.

“Password?” she heard from a muffled voice from the other side of the door. She swallowed. Here goes.

“G-gerudo Fanfiction Club!” she whispered almost aggressively, her heart beating like a drum in her ears. For some reason, the secrecy and cloak-and-dagger of the entire situation had her reeling from the excitement. And the alcohol, maybe. She giggled.

“Uh... yeah, that’s correct. I usually ask for it one letter at a time, but… whatever, just come in here”, the voice grumbled before the door opened to reveal a tall Gerudo woman, her red chin-length hair held back from her face with a blue and gold headband. Zelda awkwardly shuffled inside, and the woman closed the door behind her.

“Come on in, little vai. It’s your first time, right?”

The woman stepped behind a counter and Zelda followed her into a small, cosy room. The walls were lined with bookshelves, marked in a system she couldn’t understand, but seemed to be meticulously ordered. There was a small lounge area with sofas, coffee tables and chairs, and a pair of booths with curtains lining the far wall. From one of the booths a giddy squeal could be heard, before the person responsible managed to muffle the sound.

“There is only one more person in tonight. Excuse her, se can never really conceal her excitement”, the Gerudo chuckled. “Alright, let’s get you set up. My name is Greta, by the way, and I’m responsible for the club’s business. Like a librarian, in a way”, she mused.

The gears in Zelda’s head were turning like crazy, but she couldn’t get a grip on what sort of establishment this could be. Greta gave off an air that was both relaxed and down-to-business, but what sort of business? Secret information business? Or were libraries taboo among the Gerudo or something? Was she racist for imagining stern Gerudo women smacking books from bookshelves with their spears during official city-wide book raids?

“We have a one-time member’s fee of fifty rupees, making you a life-time member”, Greta continued, handing Zelda a piece of paper and a small, purple card with “GFC” in golden print, dragging her back from musings of tanned abs and book skewers.

“For that fee you can read how much you want, whenever you want, indefinitely. The paper will tell you the rules and privileges of being a member, and the card Is like a library card, if you want to bring a text home. This,” she continued, gesturing to a small box on the counter, “is the Request Box. You fill out one of these forms, where you tell us what you want the story to be about, who should be involved, what kinks you want included, blah blah blah…” Greta droned on, rolling her eyes slightly.

 _Kinks_?! What does she mean, kinks?! Zelda had a hard time imagining she meant like a kink in her shoulder, or something. Or was is a massagey thing? The Gerudo practised the massagey thing almost religiously, right? Sagely massage texts, probably.

But, no. She could see some of the spines of some of the books in the closest bookshelf, and the words attacked her stuttering brain like a flock of horny keese.

****

_“Sheathing the Master Sword!_

_Stal bones and Keese Balls!_

_Chu Chu up the Woo-hoo!_

_Love stumps and Kokoriko Knobs!”_

 

And those were the _relatively_ _good_ titles. If something that melts your brain into malice goo can be described as _good._ And what was up with all those exclamation marks? Damn, if those stories were not happy to see her, it seemed.

“...And if your request gets accepted we’ll contact you to discuss the story further, before deciding on a price. Do you follow?” Greta asked, noticing for the first time that Zelda seemed to be zoning out a little. “Hey, vai, are you okay?”

“Glegh”, Zelda mumbled, helpfully.

"Who did you hear about us from, by the way? Did they… explain it to you at all?” Greta sounded slightly concerned, but politely ignored any squeaky sand-seal noises Zelda may or may not have produced, allegedly.

Zelda coughed. “I… overheard a conversation”, she said, struggling a little to find the words amongst all the Sex Keese in her head.

“Oh dear”, she heard the Gerudo sigh, before leading her to a sofa, where Zelda let herself be manoeuvred into a sitting position, that looked sort of casual. If sitting was something unnatural to Hylians that Zelda was awkwardly trying out for the first time. She looked over the bookshelves in disbelief.

“Well, how about this: since this Is the first time you’re here, and you didn’t really know what you were getting in to, you can look through the archives for free. BUT - ” The woman held up her finger, meeting Zelda’s eyes sternly, “ – this is a _personal_ one time offer. I don’t want anyone else coming in here trying to mooch. Are we clear, little vai?” Greta’s gaze was dangerous for a second, letting Zelda know exactly what she thought of mooching.

“Totally”, Zelda whispered, her cheeks tinted slightly red. Greta rose from the sofa with a smile, heading back behind the counter, where she sat down to read. Zelda didn’t look at the title. She didn’t want to. Nope.

“Oh, and by the way”, Greta said suddenly, “the booths are for people wo are embarrassed to be seen while reading, okay? They’re not for… pearl-fiddling, if you know what I mean”, she said with a raised eyebrow. Zelda choked.

“O-of course not!” She squeaked, her voice one octave too high. How could her face get this red? Was there any blood left in any other part of her body?

Well, this had been informative. _Hylia deliver her from evil_ , she prayed, she should stand up, get out and never return, right now. She would do that, in just a moment. She just had to calm down a little, that was it.

The Sex Keese giggled in her head, making her shake it like a wet dog.

She tried to stop her curious eyes from wandering, but today was a day of bad ideas, it seemed, so she let them wander. She saw that many of the titles, written on the spines of the books, had Link’s name in it, or some mention of Hyrule’s champion.

Oh. Curious. She couldn’t stop her hands as she reached out and snagged a notebook from the shelf, looking at the plain cover. The title had her confused. _“Link survives a shark attack!_ ” How strange, he never told her that story. How did he even end up in the sea? As far as she knew, there were no sharks in Hyrule, except far off the eastern coast. Then she noticed a little sticker on the lower right of the cover. _“Aftercare. Anal sex. Biting. Blood. Double penetration. Oral sex…”_

Her head snapped up so hard she almost got whiplash and she felt like her whole body was blushing. _That’s disgusting!_ She wanted to think, but didn’t, really. She had one impulse to throw the book away from her and wash her hands, and then chop them of and buy new ones, somehow, but then another… to open it, peek inside, read just a little.

Oh Hylia. _Don’t put Hylia and bloody buttsex in the same thoughtstream_ , she thought in the same thoughtstream. She looked down again, to spot another note in the left corner, and choked.

“ _Requested by Sidon”_. Is every one of her subjects a sexual delinquent?! The Sex Keese supplied her mind with an image of Sidon’s shapely, firm bottom, which looked like the two halves of a perfectly cloven hydromelon. She shivered.

Zelda slid the book back into its place on the shelf, pinching the bridge of her nose. Well, what could she say. It was a great demand for this sort of thing, it would seem – the shelves must hold hundreds of these deprived stories. And so many of them about Link! She had never thought about him in _that_ way, but somehow, she grudgingly admitted to herself, she could understand the appeal. He had touched the hearts (and, apparently, fictional knobs) of hundreds of people all across Hyrule, always gentle and helpful but, at the same time, unapproachable. Maybe that was the stuff sexual fantasies were built on.

She would never want to… be intimate…. With the hero, herself. But when she _accidentally_ imagined a firm, muscular chest pressed up to the skin of his creamy, curved back, the perfectly round globes of his buttocks possessively kneaded by a large, masculine hand…

A shiver went through her entire body and she had to fight back a giggle of enjoyment. What. _No._ Oh, no. She had been pulled in. She had been infected! It was time to leave, right now, she decided, and stood up on her shaky legs. They were like boiled Tabantha noodles, as if her legs had soaked up the excess of all the juicy, randy sex-words leaking out of her overflowing trashbrain.

She approached the counter, ready to declare that no, she was not interested, in any way, at all, and least of all by tantalizingly bouncy boybuttocks, thank you. She coughed carefully and opened her mouth.

“Do you have any stories of Link getting… coerced… by a group of soldiers and a red giant fishman?” She said and put a purple rupee on the counter.

 _Fuck_.

 Greta smirked and stood up. “Right this way, little Vai. Non-con, right?”

 

 

Her mind was too embarrassed to deal with the interaction and searching that followed, so it left for a while. It travelled back to a time when she had been a respectable woman, with respectably non-sexual thoughts about her twinkly champion and her other champion’s studly shark brother.

When her mind came back to her body it found it just as tainted with _Perverse_ Unprincessly Inclinations as when she had left. She was sitting in a small booth, the curtain drawn, with a book in front of her. She took a deep breath to calm her beating heart. _Link, I am so sorry for this._ She began to read.

 

 


End file.
